


Love Is A Warm Sock

by Violet Lunar Wolf (Dragon_MoonX)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore loves his socks, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_MoonX/pseuds/Violet%20Lunar%20Wolf
Summary: Because one can never have too many socks.





	Love Is A Warm Sock

It started with Hermione, her constant knitting creating a mountain of socks, woolen hats, scarves and other accessories for the house elves at Hogwarts. She would stash them in various locations, hiding them behind furniture, on bookshelves and under beds, hoping that the elves would find them and enjoy her hand made gifts. And while the articles of clothing would vanish from time to time, it was always the socks that went first. Though it wasn't the house elves that were taking them. It was someone else, someone Hermione never would have expected.

Dumbledore, with his everlasting love of socks, had been sneaking around the castle in the dead of night, swiping Hermione's socks and adding them to his collection.

When he found them, he would always have to stop and smell them first. He'd been collecting socks for so long that he could distinguish between the different fabrics just by sniffing them, and as he inhaled deeply, sucking in a couple dust bunnies in the process, he could tell that this was a Peruvian 87'.

"Ah yes," he said, smiling as he held up the pair of socks. "An excellent vintage. Haven't seen this kind of wool in ages!"

One time he came across a pair of socks hidden behind the throw pillows on the couch. The only problem was that this particular couch happened to be occupied by Ron Weasley, who had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace while eating a turkey sandwich. To make matters worse, Ron had used one of the socks as a napkin, slathering its warm fluffiness with copious amounts of mayonnaise.

A single tear shone in the firelight, glinting briefly before trickling down his cheek as the elderly wizard carefully removed the soiled sock from Ron's lap. He wondered how someone could be so cruel as to tarnish this beautiful specimen with greasy condiments. Such crimes against socks must not go unpunished. And so Dumbledore sent a message to the house elves that worked in the kitchens, telling them not to let Ron have any snacks for a week.

When he finished collecting the socks that Hermione had hidden throughout the castle, Dumbledore returned to his office and placed the socks in a pile on the middle of the floor. He'd been doing this night after night until he created a mound of socks that was three feet deep. He then took a step back to admire his collection, the myriad of colors and textures lighting a fire in his loins that made his heart race with excitement.

Dumbledore stripped off his robes, removing every last article of clothing and tossing them across the room. A startled Fawks was heard shrieking loudly as the old man's underwear went sailing through the air and struck him in the face.

The phoenix shook his head, causing the underwear to fall to the floor. He then burst into flames when he saw his owner making snow angles in the pile of pilfered socks.


End file.
